


Twelfth Night (or I Do What I Want, Thor!)

by Dubstep_Wombat



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), Twelfth Night - Shakespeare
Genre: After TDW, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 06:25:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1377223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dubstep_Wombat/pseuds/Dubstep_Wombat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Loki, finding himself stranded on unfriendly Midgard, disguises himself as Thor and tries to find a way back to Asgard. Luckily, one unsuspecting Darcy Lewis is willing to take "Thor" directly Jane Foster and her research.</p>
<p>And </p>
<p>In which Darcy Lewis thought that she would never be happy again after Jane fired her. (She thinks she's allowed a little melodrama here.) But things look up when she stumbles across Thor. If anyone can get her back into Jane’s good graces, Thor can.</p>
<p>And</p>
<p>In which Jane Foster is mourning the loss of her independence and has moved into Stark Tower, where she has sequestered herself from the sight of all. She will not rest until she has finished her science! Nothing could possibly distract her, except maybe Thor.</p>
<p>And </p>
<p>In which Thor discovers Loki’s treachery on Asgard and vows to scour the earth until he has found his traitorous brother. Unfortunately, without the All-Father’s assistance, he hasn’t a clue where to begin. But he discovers an ally in a man he once thought dead.</p>
<p>And</p>
<p>In which Erik Selvig MIGHT be coaxed into wearing pants. But only if they are yellow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twelfth Night (or I Do What I Want, Thor!)

**Author's Note:**

> I have no beta, so any and all mistakes are mine. Please do not hesitate to point them out to me.

“If music be the food of love, play on,” Darcy said, turning up the volume on the radio. “Because it’s not like I have any money for real food right now.” Technically, that was a slight exaggeration, of course, but not that slight. She had been an unpaid intern for a while now, and the small amount of money she’d saved up working the checkout lane at the grocery store had dwindled to dangerously low levels.

Her iPod was plugged into her car stereo, playing her “Woe is Me” playlist. It had been stuck on that particular playlist for the past three days, and Darcy didn’t think she would be changing it any time soon. She glared at the road rushing underneath her, at the cars she passed, and at the sky, which at least had the decency to be grey and cloudy. Any car that had the audacity to pass her was submitted to an extra hard glare. 

Most of the cars were passing her. Darcy was driving exactly the speed limit. And, most of the time she hated cars that drove exactly the speed limit (or, Thor forbid, below the speed limit.) But Darcy didn’t want drive fast today. She didn't want to reach her destination any time soon. Or at all. In fact, if she could be driving backwards, Darcy would love to be driving backwards. Back towards New York and Jane and even pantsless Erik, as gross as that was. However, not only was driving backwards a ridiculously dangerous thing to do, nothing waited for Darcy in New York, but a future she couldn't have. The agony of that lost future was chasing her away from the city like hounds chasing a hart.

“Damn convergence,” she muttered. Again. “Damn aliens. Damn SHIELD and their stupid noses poking where they didn’t belong.” Because this whole situation? It totally sucked. 

Darcy was still damning a long list of people when her phone rang. She very nearly crashed the car in her frantic effort to answer it. “Jane?” she asked. 

“No, Darcy,” the voice was so familiar that Darcy didn’t need to hear her next sentence to know who it was. “It’s you mother.” 

“Hi Mom,” Darcy said, turning the sound down on her radio and trying really hard not to sound disappointed. 

“I just got your message. Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “Everything’s great. I’m just coming home for a bit before graduation, if that’s okay?” 

“Of course you can. Your dad’s elated your coming,” Mom said, but her tone was hesitant. “Are you sure everything’s okay, honey?” 

Darcy swallowed, wishing her dad was calling instead of Mom. Mom was always just a little too perceptive. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“Well, I was under the impression your internship would last at least another month,” Mom said. 

“Yeah, well,” Darcy paused. “Some of Dr. Foster’s funding got rejiggered, and she couldn’t afford to keep me around.” Which was true. Somewhat. Jane’s funding got “rejiggered” in that Tony fucking Stark had taken the little astrophysicist under his wing after she and Thor saved the universe from some Elvish stormtroopers. And now Jane could afford a whole fleet of interns, ones who understood her research and stuff. So there really had been no need for Darcy to stick around. As such, she had, very unceremoniously too, been kicked out on her ass. The fact that Darcy may have had a hand in saving the universe too was acknowledged by no one.

Darcy was still bitter about it. She’d thought she and Jane were tight, you know? A team, standing firm against Norse Gods falling from the sky, shady government organizations, alien invasions, both mortal and godly peril, and some really terrible English food. (Who has beans for breakfast? That’s just weird.) Now Jane wouldn’t even return her calls. Darcy had left, like, eighty messages before she conceded defeat. 

She did not mention any of this to her mother.

“Oh. Well, I’m sorry about that, honey,” her mom said, not sounding sorry about it at all. Her mom had not particularly liked the idea of her daughter with the political science major doing an internship with an astrophysicist. She’d wanted Darcy to get some kind of job in some politician’s campaign or what not. Which, admittedly, Darcy had wanted too, originally. But, you know, Norse Gods falling from the sky are a hell of a lot cooler than cold calling a list of people and asking them to vote for Candidate Whatshisface. 

“It’s okay,” Darcy said. “Bigger and better things and all that.” She tried to sound enthusiastic, she really did, but she wasn’t that great of an actress. Mom had always seen right through all her daughter’s pretenses anyway. 

“I really am sorry about your internship,” Mom said. “I know how much you liked it.” The kindness of the sentiment was tarnished a bit by the unspoken “though I have no idea why.” 

Darcy ignored it. “It’s fine, Mom. I’ll see you in a bit.” 

“See you,” her mother said, and then hung up. Darcy sighed and tossed her phone at the passenger seat. But not before checking if she had somehow missed any calls or had any new messages from Jane. None. Darcy resisted the urge to bang her head against her steering wheel. Instead, she turned the sound back up on the radio. It was currently playing “I Dreamed a Dream.” 

“Back to wallowing in my own self pity,” Darcy muttered, before singing along as loudly, as poorly, and as pitifully as she could. Perhaps her noise would offend the heavens so greatly that they would throw something good in her path, just to shut her up.


End file.
